No Chance To Fix This
by Tabbica
Summary: Sherlock's fall had an impact on Greg Lestrade too, and he is completely overwhelmed.
1. Greg

This story is thankfully betaed by BelieveSherlock  
Thank you! xo Hints of an established Greg/Mcroft relationship

Greg was disconcerted and confused because he still wasn't able to come to terms with what had happened. His head was throbbing as he pressed the heels of his hands against his eye sockets and took one deep breath. He did not know what he could do to make things right again – and then a short laugh escaped his mouth – there was no chance to fix this, everything was destroyed.

Two days ago things were badly screwed up, but not beyond repair. Two day ago Anderson and Donovan came to him voicing their suspicion that Sherlock Holmes himself had abducted these children. Two days ago he went, both members of his team in tow, to his supervisor. Two days ago he went to Baker Street to arrest Sherlock.

Greg let out a long shuddering breath, and yesterday Sherlock jumped from the roof of St Barts.

Greg wasn't sure if he would ever be able to forget what he saw as he arrived at the scene. The blood that pooled on the pavement and formed a puddle on the stone. John, who was leaning against the wall of the building staring at the blood - so pale that he too looked dead. It was more than obvious that he was in shock; he was lethargic and was not noticing the nurses that talked to him. He only stood there, leaning against the building for support and stared. But that changed suddenly after he registered Greg. John threw himself against Greg, placing a fist in his face, and then he started to yell. Yelled at him that this was his fault - the yards fault; that if they had shown a little more trust in Sherlock, he wouldn't have had killed himself. They were the people that ripped apart everything Sherlock had lived for.

Greg had to admit that he had not thought of that. He was too shocked as he heard the news and all he wanted was to get to the scene. But after John's outburst and the staring eyes of the bystanders, it clicked into place. John was right, this was his fault. He staggered back a few steps before fleeing.

Now, he sat alone in a pub, in the middle of the day, staring in his beer. Everything was his fault. He was the person who gave in to Anderson and Donovan, even though he was fully aware that both of them detested Sherlock. He knew that both of them would do anything to prevent the consulting detective from showing up at a crime scene ever again. Wasn't it his job to ensure that there was real evidence? Wasn't it his job to protect the innocent? He never doubted that Sherlock was not involved in that crime, or any crime. Yet, he ran to his supervisor because he was a coward who hadn't the strength to stand up against his own team. And so, he killed the most brilliant man he had ever known. Well, one of the two most brilliant men he had ever known. However, he had no doubt that he destroyed the second one too. Mycroft would crack over the death of his brother; Greg knew that Mycroft cared deeply about Sherlock, even if he would never say that aloud.

Yesterday was the day he lost everything, his reputation as a police officer, his pride, and his belief that he was a good man. He had made a mistake, and destroyed three lives. Sherlock's quite literally but he destroyed the lives of John Watson, and Mycroft Holmes as well. Well, he destroyed four lives; his life too was gone down the drain. His job was gone; he got suspended one an hour after John gave him a black eye, and his love. He never felt like this with another man before. Mycroft and him, that is – no, it was - something different. There was no chance to fix this. Although he tried to phone Mycroft several times, the last thing he heard was that Mycroft had bailed John out of prison after he got arrested for attacking an officer. After all of his calls went to voicemail, he gave up and tried texting things like: "please phone me or let me know when I can phone you", "will you come home?", and "My, please I am worried about you". Then he tried to reach Anthea but she also did not answer her phone.

Greg waited for Mycroft to come home in the evening, but he didn't show up. Although Greg wasn't as intelligent as Mycroft, he got the message. He left Mycroft's flat in the morning, took some of his stuff with him, and left a letter and the keys. He wrote everything down, how sorry he was that he knew that the chain was broken loose by him, and that he could understand if Mycroft never wanted talk to him again. He wrote that he loved Mycroft and because of that he would respect his wishes to be left alone. He hoped that his writing did not give away how much his hand had trembled and he made sure that there were no tearstains on the paper. He never thought of himself as teary, but after this event he could not hold them back as he wrote.

Yes, his life was destroyed too. After Greg realized that, he felt guilt for his self pity. He sighed and continued to wait. He had two hours left, and then he had to catch his train. He knew that this was a simple fight or flight impulse. And that he should be staying to fight. But he could not do that. He felt empty, defeated, and impossibly tired. The reason for the latter was partly because he hadn't slept all last night and was awake for over thirty hours. There was a part of him, looking at his shattered life, seeing the pained and horrified expression on Johns face, and feeling the rejection from Mycroft - that made him feel so helpless, so paralyzed. And underneath all of that, there was a little part of him, a tiny little part, which whispered that he should fight. Fight for his job, his friends, his life, and his love – but he was beaten, too tired to fight. It was simply too much to handle, he even didn't want to see or speak with his family.

He grabbed his duffle bag, shrugged out of his coat, and stuffed it into the bag, pulling out a hoodie. This was just another sign that he was a coward; he tried to prevent being easily tracked over CCTV. Before today, Greg had never understood the people that vanished and left everything behind without a word to friends and family. But now he understood, his life was in ruins and he had nothing left. He was abandoned by Mycroft, hated by John, without a job. He never thought that his life would ever be so dark and so hopeless. He pulled the hoddie on, stood up, and left. He would wait at the train station.

Two hours later, Greg Lestrade sat on his train and watched the sunset; it suited the emptiness and the hopelessness he felt. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, he would not cry in a public place – maybe later, when he was alone in some hotel room, but not now.


	2. John

John starred with confusion at his mobile. The screen showed a text from Sally Donovan, asking him if he knew the current whereabouts of Greg Lestrade. He frowned, the last three days had been a nightmare, there was pain, lack of understanding, hate and guilt, and the rest was a blur.  
Pain over the loss of his best friend, the lack of understanding why he did this, hate for Moriarty and his evil scheme, and guilt that he, John, obviously had not see the signs. He did not see how much Sherlock felt cornered, that his friend did not think that John would - or could help him. He also felt anger at Mycroft, who had given Moriarty the ammunition.

The last time he had seen Greg was at the hospital, when he had lashed out at him, something he wasn't proud of. He knew that Greg only did his job – hell, Greg had even phoned before he came to arrest Sherlock. He had warned them. John was ashamed that he had hit Greg, but back then he had only felt anger and pain. He cringed as he remembered the detective inspector's face after he yelled at him; Greg had immediately turned around and went away. John got himself arrested by an officer who was at the scene. He couldn't forget that he also punched the superintendent the night before. When he was released only an hour later, he had no doubt that it was Mycroft's doing.

Back at Baker Street John shut himself out from the world. He was hurting, but he knew that he'd get better. He was a soldier and sadly he had experience with the death of friends. He felt that it was always better to keep busy with work. That kept him from thinking about Sherlock too much. John was better when he kept to himself, dealing with the loss on his own, and trying to wrap his mind around the fact that his friend was gone. After that, he'd be able to talk about it, but not now, and certainly not yesterday when his therapist wanted him to. So he went to work, not that day – but yesterday and today he was at the surgery, he saw his patients, and after the surgery hours he buried himself in the paperwork that he had brought back home. But there wasn't that much paperwork and he needed another distraction. Finding out where Greg was, and why his team was searching for him would fill this need.

He stood up and headed for the kitchen to make tea. While he waited for the kettle to boil, he texted Sally back 'No, I do not know where Greg is. Problem?' By the time he took the tea-bag out of his mug, his phone chimed again 'Not sure, he was last seen after you got arrested. He doesn't answer his phone – all calls are going straight to voicemail and he wasn't at his flat since then. Do you know the man he is with?'

'Yes, I'll ask him.'

After Sally's last question it was clear that she did not know that Greg was with Mycroft. John had not seen Mycroft since Sherlock's sui… jump and he tried to think through a text to send to Mycroft that sounded right. Or better, not totally awful. He came up with, 'Hello Mycroft, if you need to talk you can count on me. Is Greg with you?'  
John was not sure when and if he would hear from Mycroft. To Greg's phone he sent 'I'm sorry Greg, I overreacted. Please contact me'  
Three hours later he hadn't heard from Greg, Mycroft, or Anthea and he got the uneasy feeling that there was something not quite right. He didn't really want to, but he tried to call Mycroft.

"John" Mycroft answered after two rings; John thought that he sounded tired.

"Mycroft, I am sorry to disturb you. I want to say thank you for bailing me out of prison. And I tried to reach Greg. Is he with you?"

"No need to thank me John. I am quite certain that Gregory is at his flat, I haven't seen him in the last days. I couldn't…" John heard how Mycroft took a deep breath and he had an awful feeling in his gut as he replied.

"No he isn't Mycroft, he was last seen after we had this … encounter at Bart's. He wasn't at home since then, all calls to his mobile are going to voicemail and he did not reply to my text." The line went dead silent for a moment, and then Mycroft released his breath.

"I will check that." And Mycroft cut the connection.

John rubbed his hand over his face. Mycroft had not known that Greg was not at his flat, and that Greg was not answering his phone – the doctor had a very, very bad feeling about the situation. He called Sally.

"John Watson here" he said. "Greg is not with his friend, he had not seen him in the last few days. What had happened, why are you asking now? Why didn't you say anything yesterday after he did not show up for work?"

"Dr Watson," Sally's voice was hesitant "Greg was suspended after ... you know. Today was his hearing and he did not show up. After I couldn't reach him I went to his flat. His neighbours haven't seen him for days. The women that collect his mail said he was there a week ago to get it. Hell – I didn't even know that he is with a man. She said that Greg practically moved into his boyfriends flat."

"I did not know that he was suspended, if I hear from Greg I let you know. Bye." John was about to cut the connection when he heard Sally call his name.

"Dr Watson!"

"Yes?"

"I … sorry, nothing. Goodbye." The line went dead.

John sat down in his chair and thought about the situation, he did not believe that Greg would disappear of his own will. He wouldn't leave because of his suspension, as far as he knew, Greg would stay and fight. But John had the feeling that he missed something. Why did Mycroft not realize that Greg was not at home? The two of them were so close… Mycroft's words came back to him "I haven't seen him in the last days. I couldn't". A suspicion nagged at him, he had his experience with Sherlock and his inability to process strong feelings. Mycroft sounded devastated and John's anger at him was long gone. He knew that when Mycroft lost Sherlock he lost all his remaining family. And John had the feeling that Mycroft had cut himself off from the world. That was something that Sherlock would have done. He texted Mycroft, 'Greg got suspended three days ago. He didn't show up at the hearing today. His colleagues tried to track him – without success. His neighbours hadn't seen him in days. I'll go to his flat, maybe I'll find something'

He slipped his coat on, grabbed his wallet, checked that his oyster and some money was in it, took his cane and the spare keys to Greg's place, and left his flat. Before he entered the tube station he went into the Boots right beside it. Knowing that it would be a long walk, he bought painkillers and something to drink with caffeine. He hated cola, but he knew that the painkillers would kick sooner if he added caffeine. John decided to catch a train on the Hammersmith line, so that there would be no need to change the lines. That meant that he had a nearly 40 minute tube ride in front of him. The train was quite empty, so he didn't have a problem to find a seat.

John played absentmindedly with Greg's spare keys. Greg had given them the keys because if Sherlock wanted something he would break. If he had the keys, there was no damage. John looked around; no other commuters gave him any attention. There was something else odd going on though; there was not a single article since the one from Kitty Riley that mentioned him. There was no press at his door wanting to talk to him, no journalists on his phone, and the URL of his blog gave an error 404 after he set a link to the BBC News. He was sure that this was Mycroft's or Anthea's doing.

His mind wandered back to Greg, John hoped that he was ok. He was sure that the suspension had hit Greg hard; he loved his job. And John had the suspicion that Mycroft had not been in contact – he could only guess how alone Greg felt. He was also quite sure that Greg did not really have friends. John was the only one to sometimes meet Greg after his shift for a pint. He and Sherlock were the ones who helped Greg move into his new flat after the divorce; there were no others to help, not even some of his colleagues from the Met. John remembered how Greg told him once that all his friends were in truth his wife's friends.

Greg was glad that Sherlock had helped him to find a flat. True, Barking was in Zone 4 but it was a nice flat in a nice and quite modern house with an acceptable rent. After they had moved all of Greg's belongings to his new home, they had gone to The Spotted Dog, a pub not far from the tube station. John remembered that in their last private conversation, Greg had told him that The Spotted Dog would probably close this year and that Greg was a little down about that because he liked the Pub.

John hands shook as he used his key to open the door to Greg's flat. He was afraid about what he would find. He did not think of Greg as the type that would harm himself, but he had thought the same about Sherlock – and he was terribly wrong there. He swallowed and opened the door.

"Greg? It's John!" he called out, as he stepped into the flat. He looked around; at least it did not smell like there was a body lying around. The living room looked normal, the kitchen too. John felt odd and even though he was quite sure that Greg wasn't there, he knocked on the bedroom door before he opened it.

The wardrobe door was open and it seemed like there were some clothes missing. John went to the bathroom. The cabinet over the sink was open too. There was no toothbrush, no razor. John would guess that Greg normally had a set here and a second set at Mycroft's.

He wrote a short message on a piece of paper and left it on the coffee table in the living room.  
John's only idea was that Greg went to his parents. He knew that, even if they did not live close by, they were very tight, sure, it was a cliché – Greg looking for shelter with his parents but it was the only idea John had.  
So the next thing he would do was track down Greg's parents.


	3. Mycroft

Mycroft sat at his dark, wooden desk, starring at his laptop. He wasn't working or reading, his mind was miles away.

It was his job to see the bigger picture, to assess the reactions of the people involved, and to create several backup plans to avoid chaos, or worse. And he was good at his job. So, how and when did everything go so wrong? It was hurtful to realize that this was his fault.

He had been too occupied with the Moriarty case and the mess that had left. Sure, he and Sherlock had a plan, but it went wrong. Neither Sherlock nor he had thought that Moriarty would kill himself. At first Mycroft wasn't sure if Sherlock had survived because Moriarty's suicide wasn't in any of their plans. He knew everything of what had happened on the roof. He had video files from different angles and an audio file too. But there where long hours in which he didn't know what his brother was doing.

If their plan had worked, then his only problem would have been to explain to Greg that he had known that there was a mole in his division. He would have told him that his people had been monitoring the man closely, ready to strike. Yes, Greg would have been furious, but he was also a police officer and would have seen that it was a good plan. The problem was that the 'good plan' did not work.

In addition, while he was working on a backup plan of the backup plan he delayed his very necessary talk with Greg.

What could he have said to Greg? That he, Mycroft, was grievously mistaken in his assessment of the mental state of Moriarty, that it escaped him how insane the man was? What could he have said? Apart from ifs and whens and admittance of his failure? So he left Greg in the dark, ignoring his text messages and calls – all the while failing to see what it must have looked like to the detective inspector.

Greg, who saw Sherlock as a friend, could only think that he had killed himself. Greg was the one who had reached out to comfort both of them; one of them losing a friend and the other a brother.

Then Sherlock had contacted him, after the relief that his brother was alive had died down, he was able to concentrate other things. The first point on his agenda was the snipers. Just as he received the report that the last sniper was found and arrested, John contacted him. After the call, Mycroft looked for the first time in Greg's file, that Anthea had been keeping up to date, since this mess started.

When he went to Greg's flat, he was devastated when he found Greg's note, along with the keys. He sunk down on the kitchen chair and read it several times.

This was entirely his fault; he hadn't even given a thought to how Greg would feel in this scenario. Now it was obvious that Greg felt rejected and alone.

Mycroft considered how he could face Greg when John believed that he had given Moriarty the ammunition to destroy Sherlock. Surely John would have told Greg about Mycroft's deal with the criminal, they were friends. He knew that he had to lie because he was the only one with the knowledge of Sherlock's survival. Their plan – Sherlock's and his – had failed, but they had several backup scenarios.

How could he face Greg, a man that was grieving a friend, when he had the truth that would bring him out of his misery?

Mycroft hadn't wasted a single thought on how Greg was doing, he didn't know about the fight with John. He did not know about the suspension, about the hearing. All these things had lain on his desk, but he had only concentrated on the Moriarty case. He had let Greg down and he still wasn't sure what had caused it. He was used to handling many things on his plate at one time and he had enough time to contact several governments and secret services to build a supportive backup for Sherlock. Mycroft had realized early on that Moriarty's web was bigger and reached further than he had initially thought, but from the beginning he was aware of the threat that this man was. Well connected, ruthless and completely insane – a very dangerous mix.

So he concentrated on the task to keep his brother save, to ensure that he had all the help he needed to succeed.

He had failed, failed in his relationship with Greg. The first time things didn't happen exactly how he had predicted, he had focused on that, abandoning Greg and betraying the trust Greg had in him. Mycroft knew Greg; he knew that he did not trust easily after everything that had happened with his ex-wife. Yet, after all that he had left him alone when Greg had needed him the most.

Mycroft rubbed his hand over his face and sighed. He had completely messed up; Greg had once admitted how easily he felt rejected, that sometimes a little word made doubt him that Mycroft really loved him.

And what had Mycroft done? He had ignored his calls, his texts, and he didn't go home. There was one more thing Mycroft could feel guilty about – he wasn't at his flat in the last three days – too much work, too much to organize. He failed to make sure that Greg was safe, even after Moriarty had threatened him. He still felt ill just thinking about it.

It was so clear in his choice of words how desperate, lonely and rejected Greg felt, but the worst thing was that Greg thought it was his fault that Sherlock had jumped. However, Mycroft knew that this was all the doing of Moriarty's net and that some of the Yarders had fallen into Moriarty's trap. That was all predicted and not at all Greg's doing. Mycroft's stomach turned at the hopelessness of the letter.

He went back to his office, setting his employees to the task of finding Greg.

Five minutes ago, Anthea had reported that Greg's mobile was found in a garbage can at King's Cross. Ten minutes before that, one of his employees had informed him that Greg had withdrawn £1000 from his bank account on the day of his departure. He had used two cashpoint machines to get around the withdraw limit.

His employees were trying to find Greg, but when they found him – Mycroft had no idea what he could do. He needed to give Greg an apology, and the very least he could do would be to get him his job back. Greg loved his job and Mycroft couldn't stand the idea that Greg would lose his job. He could give Greg that back - at least. Since Greg left with cash, he knew that Greg wanted to be alone, that he did not want to found quickly.

Could he give Greg time to calm down, or would that make the whole situation worse?

Mycroft decided that the first thing he would do was to give Greg his job back and show him that the suicide wasn't his fault.

He had more than enough evidence that Moriarty was real; there was audio and video footage shot at several angles from the roof. Mycroft also had the evidence that Kitty Riley had been sloppy in her job, simply because of her hurt feelings after Sherlock's rejection. She had accepted all the lies that Moriarty told her without any research. But then... what should he do, what would be best for Greg?

Mycroft could tell him what the original plan was – the plan that never happened because Moriarty shot himself.

Could tell him that Sherlock was alive and hunting down Moriarty's men? No, he couldn't do that, not until he was absolutely sure that they had all the snipers; hell would break loose if Moriarty's men realized what happened.

So, should Mycroft lie to him? Let him think that Sherlock is dead, dead because Sherlock tried to save him?

Then should he try to knit their relationship back together? The relationship that he, Mycroft, had ruined. But then he would only rip everything apart again, destroying anything they had, when Sherlock returned.

Either way, he would abuse Greg's trust and he simply couldn't do that - not after the damage he had already caused. Not after the pain he had caused. Not after he saw the shaky handwriting on the note.

Mycroft loved Greg and it pained him that he had hurt the man he loved so much. And it pained him so much more that he saw no chance to fix this, to repair the damage. He had left Greg alone when Greg had needed him the most – the damage was caused by him. If he hadn't lost Greg a few days ago, he soon would when his employees found him or Sherlock returned.


End file.
